The Defector: revision 2
by skipper-of-otters
Summary: The story of a young fox defector who's actions may determine Redwall's fate. A fox with unknown motives.
1. Prologue

Author's notes on this revision: I recommend everyone read this version of The Defector, even if they read what got written on the original version. This is because the revised version contains several important plot and characterization changes. I'm also releasing this one chapter at a time, because revising each chapter takes one heck of a long time, plus I don't want to overload new readers. Among the changes: less two dimensional characters (I hope), revised plot line (especially farther in, it starts out the same), better proofreading, better physics, and hopefully better dialogue. This will become more obvious later on.  
  
Dedication and Summary  
  
This fanfic is dedicated to anyone who reviews on The Bellmaker Parody, but I'd especially like to thank my early reviewers, Froster, Constance, sweetstrawberries, and DumbOldDork. As well, I'd like to thank OE for helping out with a nifty evaluation of the original version of this fanfic, my brother (aka Darth Tabby) for his great novels and his advice on this project, and Rustiredd for all the great fanfics he's written. Finally, I'd also like to dedicate this to Highwing, because after writing a 717 page Redwall fanfic for the Redwall Fanfiction Board (and a darn good fanfic at that), he deserves to have something dedicated to him, and Tsar, because being administrator at the Redwall Fanfiction Board must be one hell of a task.  
  
In the original version of this, I put in a long plot description. Now, I'm just going to see this fanfic involves a fox defector who happens to play a major role in one of Redwall's greatest conflicts, but who has a bit of an agenda of his own. It is also set a few seasons after "The Bellmaker" but all of the character used from that book are secondary characters here. Many of them will become major characters for this fanfic, however.  
  
Content advisory: this is probably a PG, but I'm going to call it PG-13 because of the high body count, occasional "interesting" death, some coarse language and a few crude jokes. Yippee!  
  
Prologue  
  
Note: Having Rab and Iris in the Northlands during the prologue doesn't actual contradict "The Bellmaker", since this happens so many seasons before that book.  
  
Five seasons before Mariel of Redwall...  
  
They came up the Scimitar river, under the dead of night. It was enough to strike fear into the heart of most fighters, northlander or otherwise... twenty-eight ships, all bearing the same flag. This was the fleet Nagru sent to deal with his enemies.  
Garsider the fox stood on the deck of the Enforcer, possibly the finest vessel in Nagru's first fleet, though certainly not the largest. Garsider was a young officer, the son of two very succesful arms dealers who had made a killing supplying weapons to several warring vermin factions some years back. He was very intelligent, rising through the ranks quickly, much to the annoyance of older but less capable officers. Garsider's knowledge of all but the most exotic tactics in both land and sea combat, combine with his uncanny ability to sense what was going on in a beast's mind made him an major asset to his friends - and outright danger to his enemies.  
Turning, he gazed out at the ship running just ahead of Enforcer. The Starhunter, as it was called, was the largest ship in Nagru's first fleet, in addition to be one of the largest naval vessels to operate in Northern waters.  
Garsider called across to a rat on the Starhunter. "We aren't in a good position here, Admiral. We're heading upstream, so if they decide to ram us, we're going to be the ones taking a lot of damage."  
Admiral Thruster was the commander of Nagru's first fleet, and was absolutely ruthless. Garsider suspected it might have something to do with the fact he was a former searat Captain. He still would be, if it wasn't for the hefty sum that Nagru had paid him to kill off some of his "friends" several years back. However, when dealing with the NDL resistance on water, one needed to hire the best, and there was no doubt Thruster was the best at his trade. At least until Garsider gained some experience. Garsider knew at some point he would have to deal with Thruster once and for all, but for now he had to keep his head low.  
Admiral Thruster thought for a second, then turned back to answer. "There's some rapids just up ahead. There's a drop of a few feet down the center and the south side, so any ship coming through has to go through a small passage at the North side. We hide our ships in an area obstructed by the drop off, and wait for them to come through the passage. Then we pound them with fire arrows.  
Garsider considered. "It should work. Let's give it a shot."  
The fleet come in behind the falls. A fleet to strike fear into the heart of most seasoned fighters. However, no one could consider Thruster's adversary to be one of the "most" when it came to anything to do with backing down.  
  
At first glance, it would have been easy for someone to mistake Admiral Chelsea Gainward as an ordinary crew otter. She was relatively young for a commander, and wore no fancy uniform. However, she had the courage of a badger lord, and the intelligence and cunning many a leader could only ask for. Sometimes she was too dedicated to her cause for her own good, as she was well known for hair raising manouvers, which raised the eyebrows of many commanders who considered themselves more sensible. She was the root cause of Nagru's problems in the Northlands - she knew ever bit of water her fleet operated in, and had taken all comers. She was the one who held the Scimitar river and it's banks from Nagru - the line across every map that seperated the few remaining goodbeasts strongholds in the North from their sworn enemies.  
Despite the fact that Gainward had lost two of her 21 ships in the battle so far, she was winning - Nagru's fleet had lost six ships, mainly scouts. Thruster did not know what she was doing. However, she happened to know Thruster's tactics well, which gave her a major advantage. As well, she had eyes in the air. Knowledge in the hands of a Commander like Gainward was a powerful weapon.  
The otter lieutenant near her paced the deck of Gainward's ship, the NDL Victory. Knowing that crew morale was important to any mission, she turned to address him, as a ally and an equal. Gainward had never been big on heirarchy.  
"Something bothering you, mate?"  
"I don't like this, marm. We're still outnumbered twenty eight to nineteen. You'd better have a mighty good tactic to take that on.  
Gainward winked. "I do, of course. Leave it to old Gainward."  
"Just what do you have in mind?"  
"Wait and see. You'll be able to see it a mile off."  
That seemed to do the trick. The otter stopped pacing, and Gainward went up to the Victory's bow, only about a foot from the NDL Barchetta, the newest ship in Gainward's fleet. It had only a small crew, since it was a small ship, but it was the fastest vessel Gainward had ever seen. It had a strong hull, too. It would have been perfect for ramming if not for the fact it was such a light vessel - but on a river that was running this fast, it would still be quite the projectile.  
The mouse that had designed the Barchetta was among the ship's small crew. He went by the name of Agradson. Gainward lean forward, talking in a quiet voice.  
"Everything ready?"  
"Yes marm, we prepared that old cargo vessel for it's final mission. When it goes, it's really going to go."  
"Good. I'd hate to be in your shoes if it didn't."  
"Why should I be afraid?"  
"Oh, I just get in a bad mood, sometimes. In addition, there's the small issue that if this doesn't work, we'll have to do things the usual way - and that means fire arrows flying everywhere. We all know how much you love fire arrows, Agradson." Agradson's swallowing could be clearly heard several feet away. Gainward smiled.  
"Don't worry, Agradson, I have supreme confidence in you." Gainward turned smartly and went back to her position on the back deck of the Victory.  
"Confidence? In me? Who's she kidding?"  
The Barchetta's captain, a shrew named Densir, answered. "Oh, she's just kidding around, Agradson. She knows you can't be trusted."  
Gainward heard the remark, and smiled. These were real Northlanders. Rogues, you might say.  
  
The massive old freighter came plunging over the drop off after the rapids, almost colliding with Nagru's ships. From his vantage point at the back of the fleet, Garsider saw the freighter plunge over the drop. No crew would have attempted to go over the drop in such a ship. Even well built ships generally did not fair well in that sort of impact, not with all the rocks poking up just under the falls. Indeed, this ship had been heavily damaged on the way down, and Garsider calculated it would sink before reaching a port if not repaired fast. However, this ship had no signs of life on it. A gut feeling told Garsider something was wrong here. He heard a captain on a vessel farther forward ordering his archers into position to bombard the freighter with fire arrows. That was standard procedure, it would drive any hiding crew on the vessel off it. However, Garsider's quick brain ran through the facts and came up with a analysis in seconds. Unfortunately for Nagru's fleet, that wasn't fast enough.  
Garsider threw himself flat on the Enforcer's deck, almost not being able to yell out his warning before he hit the deck and the air left his lungs.  
"No wait! Don't shoot!"  
The commander in the ship farther forward had already given his orders, and it was too late for the archers to stop. About twenty fire arrows hit the freighter. Agradson's modifications to the freighter, as well as Gainward's tactics, worked perfectly. The oil coating on the hull caught fire in a split second, lighting up the freighter's hold, itself full of oil barrels. The hull had been modified too. The wood had been weakened, splintering as a massive shockwave tore through it. A storm of burning wood slammed into Nagru's fleet as the shockwave tossed crewbeasts around and strained structural components. A huge fireball engulfed the nearest ships, taking them out of the action instantly.  
Although Gainward's fleet was several minutes up the river, everyone could tell the explosion had taken place. A huge flash erupted into the sky, and the ships swayed slightly as the remainder of the shockwave hit them.  
The flash also told Gainward the exact location of her enemies.  
It was unwise to try to outsmart Admiral Gainward on her own turf.  
  
Her crew was still shocked by the spectacle, but Gainward was fast to recover.  
"Good thing their wasn't forest around that section of the river, mates, or we'd be in big trouble. Captain Densir, you lead the charge. We'll follow up."  
Densir called out his orders to a sturdy female otter, who was standing at the Barchetta's bow.  
"All right, Hallena, watch out for rocks and the like. Tell me when to turn. Agradson, loose the rigging, and somebeast cut that damn anchor. I want to see what this ship can do on a really fast river.  
There happened to be a fairly good wind that night, and the currents were strong from spring run off. The Barchetta took off like an arrow from a longbow, quickly outpacing the Victory and the other ships in Gainward's fleet.  
  
Ensign Iris Riverpoint paced the deck of the NDL Tyrant's Foe. She had been in several skirmishes, but this was her first major engagement. She gripped her longbow tighter, and notched an oil tipped arrow to it. Already, small fires for igniting the arrows had been lit.  
"Worried about something?"  
Iris turned to the lieutenant standing beside her. "A little, I guess. It's my first time out in a major battle."  
"Don't worry. It happens to everyone. You do know how to shoot, don't you?"  
Iris gripped her bow and almost sneered at him. "I'm a pretty good shot, actually. How about you?"  
"My archery has always been good, but these big longbows take some getting use to. Luckily, they also give us a major advantage. We can shoot from a longer range than most vermin could ever hope for."  
Iris immediately took a liking to the big otter.  
"What is your name?"  
"Lieutenant Streambattle, but you can call me Rab."  
  
Meanwhile, Captain Densir was having a very bad time. The currents and wind gave the Barchetta very heavy steering, and yet he still kept drifting off course. It was taking all his concentration to keep the ship going down the middle of the river. He didn't here Hallena speak.  
"Turn hard to starboard!"  
Densir didn't respond.  
"I said, turn hard to starboard!!!!!!!!!" Hallinna yelled at him.  
Captain Densir pulled hard over on the tiller. "Vanguaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrd!"  
The shrew's battlecrew cut through the air to the waiting enemy fleet.  
Too late. The Barchetta shot past the turnoff and over the dropoff.  
What happened next would have shattered the hull of any other ship, but the Barchetta was very sturdy. It slammed full on into the side of the Starhunter, which was already weakened from the shockwave, smashing a section of the enemy ship's hull into pieces. The river did the rest, raging water tearing the Starhunter to pieces in a matter of seconds. It was the last thing the enemy fleet was expecting.  
  
  
Garsider's ship was one of the few that were in good shape, since it had been at the back and avoided most of the shrapnel. Garsider decided it was time to make Gainward's fleet pay.  
"Ramming speed! The other ships should be here soon, head for the north side of the river and cut them off."  
The helmsrat moved fast, and soon the Enforcer was moving at a cracking pace.  
  
The Tyrant's Foe navigated the passage just in front of the Victory, and became the second warship from Gainward's fleet to enter the battle. Which was unfortunate. Iris was quick on her bowstring, loosing a fire shaft at the Enforcer's helmsrat, but it was too late to save either vessel.  
Without the helmsrat, Enforcer was slightly off when it hit the Tyrant's Foe. Had it been a head on ram, the Tyrant's Foe would have meet a similar fate to the Starhunter. Without a head on ram however, both vessels took heavy damage. They stayed locked together for a moment, then both vessels started to break apart.  
The final word in the fight between the two vessels was shouted by Rab Streambattle.  
"Fire at will!"  
The otter archers on the Tyrant's Foe let their shafts fly at the crew of the Enforcer. Garsider was barely able to jump out of the storm of wooden shafts that seemed to fill the Enforcer's deck, some already covered in the blood of their original targets. He landed in the fast moving water with a huge splash, and immediately set about trying to keep from hitting anything in the rapids. He had to get to shore...  
The Tyrant's Foe was leaning at a crazy angle as the ships main hull started cracking. Rab leapt into the water, Iris was not so lucky. She got hit by a piece of falling debris and was knocked clean out.  
Luckily, Rab quickly saw what had happened.  
"Don't worry, you'll make it to shore. Otters take care of each other, mate!"  
Slowly but surely he swam to the shore, pushing Iris with him.  
  
Despite not having Rab's advantage of being an otter, Garsider was able to get to shore, albeit some ways down the river. However, he now had other worries. Being the highest ranked surviving officer in that fleet, Nagru would probably blame him for the failure. Nagru was always looking for a scapegoat. He could try to join another group, but Nagru forces totally outclassed that of anyone else in the Northlands, except for the few remaining strongholds of resistance cells, and those cells were likely to kill him on sight. The only other major force in the Northlands was a ferret by the name of Tangosh, and he was careful not to annoy Nagru, knowing that any false move he made would be the downfall of his tiny empire. It was time to think.  
He sat on the bank, wondering how he had gotten pulled into this whole mess in the first place. He didn't even like Nagru much, but at the time he seemed the only commander in the Northlands who had much of a future. It was then that the idea hit him...  
  
Rab came up onto shore. A lot of the crew of the Tyrant's Foe had survived the encounter, because the bulk of the crew was otter, naturally good swimmers. One of the ship's otter medics quickly rushed down.  
"Is she okay?"  
"She got knocked out, but she'll live. I kept her above water."  
"Good. Pass me those bandages, will you? Both of you have some nasty cuts."  
Rab looked up. "Part of the Job, mate. It didn't join this fleet for my own health, you know."  
  
Garsider's first officer came out onto shore. Amazingly, the rat had also survived the encounter.  
"Nagru's not going to be too happy about this."  
"Nagru's not going to get a chance to tell me what he thinks."  
"Surely you're not deserting?!"  
"I'm not deserting. I'm defecting. I'm not going to take the blame for the fact that stupid commander didn't think things through."  
The first officer decided this was his chance. Nagru would reward him for getting rid of a defector, or whatever they were called...  
Garsider was one step ahead of the rat however, and already had his bastard sword drawn. Almost before the rat had his sword fully drawn the first hefty blow came. Within seconds, it was over, the first officer breathing his last and Garsider wiping blood from his blade.  
Garsider grabbed on to of a piece of passing debris. He hated to get wet, but he had to put some considerable distance between himself and the battle site by dawn, and the river was the best way to do it. As it was, Nagru was probably going to have his family killed off for his failure. He did not intend to join them. There would be a time and place to strike back. He just had to survive. In the hours, days, months, and years that followed, he formed his own destiny. But he could not have possibly predicted the effect he would have on the world, then and in the ages to come. 


	2. Book 1, Chapter 1

Note #1: For this fanfic, one seasons is approximately equivalent to one year.  
Note #2: NDL stands for Northern Defense League.  
  
Book one: Actions and Consequences  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Fourteen seasons later...  
  
Dear Rab,  
So, you've finally decided to visit your roots? How are you and your family doing? All of us at Vanguard are interested in hearing what you've been doing over the last few years. Especially since I hear you had a run in with Nagru - we were wondering where Old Ironbrains had gotten too!  
I also heard you're a father now. Tells me a lot about what Iris and you were up to when you weren't out keeping order in Southsward! Please don't tell Iris I said that. If your son is anything like you were in your younger days Iris and you must have your paws full. I still remember some of the times you pulled me into your schemes. I also remember how many times we got into trouble together. Most of those incidents were your fault and you know it.  
I should point out that you'll probably have to stay in Vanguard for the winter, because only insane captains like Densir try to take ships out for non critical missions during winter. Since you plan to visit Redwall before coming here, I can only assume you'll be arriving too late to leave before winter.  
Then again, if what you told me about your job was true, getting stuck up here all winter was the point, wasn't it?  
I'm not going to make fun of you for taking a desk job, since I got pressured into one myself. They were only able to pressure me into it because people around here seem to think I'm some sort of hero for undertaking that damn scouting mission to the far north a couple years back. Worse waste of NDL resources ever, even if it seemed like a good idea at the time. However, I think a desk job is probably worse for you than for me. No offense, but issuing orders from behind was never your strong suit. If it wasn't for the fact you now have a family, I'm guessing you'd still be out risking your neck on a daily basis.  
I'm looking forward to hearing some good stories over a pint of Vanguard Navy rum - if Hallenna doesn't chew me out for it, of course.  
  
General John Elmsworth, Commanding officer, Port Vanguard, Northern Defense League.  
  
P.S. Please - just call me John. I hate my title.  
P.P.S. Is it true that you almost decapitated yourself showing off your wood chopping skills once? Hallenna said you did.  
  
"Rab, why are you blushing?"  
"Nothing, dear. Just something funny John put in his letter."  
Rab quickly folded the paper and slipped it into a pocket on his tunic. He had read the letter several times since leaving Southsward, but each time he couldn't help but be embarrassed about it. He had changed over the years, and although he was still fairly flameboyent, he still found parts of his past embarassing.  
Eight seasons ago he had decided to leave the Northlands, having become bored with the endless patrol missions he had to undertake as a up and coming field commander. Since Nagru had been gone for a season at this point without the NDL hearing anything about his whereabouts, Rab was able to convince his NDL commanders to give him a ship on which to try and track Nagru.  
He had managed to find a captured searat vessel, which although serviceable was very run down and not of interested to the NDL's military. Meanwhile, Iris tracked down several other northlanders who wanted to see the south to crew the vessel, and so within a couple weeks they were read to sail. As a parting gift, John Elmsworth, then a commander, gave him a map marking the location of Roaringburn - a current John had discovered while returning from a mission to find possible allies for the NDL in the far north.  
Rab had intended to scan the coast for signs of Nagru instead of looking for Nagru's ship, which would be tough to find. Unfortunately for Rab, the Roaringburn current actually caused him to overshoot Nagru's ship. At the beginning of winter Rab ended the mission, sending a message via a messenger bird to Elmsworth that said only one thing about the whole mission:   
  
If Nagru's ships haven't sunk, then he's already gone so far south you aren't going to have to worry about him anymore. So don't worry about it.  
  
Within a week of that, Rab's ship, know as Southwind, was caught in a bad storm and was driven into land. The crew decided to stay put and send a message to Elmsworth rather than attempt to repair the ship, and so Rab and company settled down to a new life in the land known as Southsward.  
Since few northlanders ever visited so far south, Rab and Iris quickly established a name for themselves. During their first winter, the two of them managed to break up a group of woodland bandits with almost no outside assistance, catching the eye of Southsward's ruler, King Gael. Gael needed a replacement for his retiring captain of the guard, and since Rab didn't have the means to leave the area anytime soon, he decided to take up the position until a suitable replacement could be found. Which meant he ended up staying a lot longer than he had originally thought he would. At first, the guards didn't like the fact that a northlander was getting promoted ahead of them, but Rab's personality and antics quickly won over any hard feelings. Iris also signed on, and the two decided to stay a lot longer than they had originally planned.  
Unfortunately, Rab had seriously underestimated just how far off course his adversary had gone, causing Rab and Iris' trial by fire to come in the summer after they arrived. This battle pitted them against their former northland enemies, Nagru and Silvamord. Southsward's otters, lead by Rab and Iris played a huge part in saving the day, and in Castle Floret's own moat Rab beat Silvamord in a paw to paw duel. The conflict also yielded a promising officier: Greenback, who over the seasons Rab had taken as a trusted advisor.  
Rab and Iris' son, named John Streambattle in honour of Rab's friend, was born in the fall following the battle of Southsward; the not so accidental product of Rab and Iris' activities when celebrating their reunion after that conflict. However, by the following summer, Rab was starting to get nostalgic. With Greenback now a extremely capable officier, Rab had decided to take his family for a trip back up north to visit his old stomping grounds.  
Rab had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as he thought of Greenback in command of the otters. Although a capable officer, Greenback was a bit of a tyrant. The first thing he would hear from his troops upon his return would likely have something to do with Greenback requiring the others to polish his boots daily.  
The big reason for this trip was to visit Port Vanguard, where Rab had lived during his NDL career, but first he planned to visit Redwall. He had never actually been to Redwall, but he had heard stories of it from the group of Redwallers who had participated in the Battle of Southsward, as well as from some of his friends from Vanguard.  
One of these friends, who had travelled between Vanguard and Redwall every few months for several years, was standing right above Rab. As Rab's boat passed under an overhanging tree on the River Moss, Oak Tom took the cap off a large water bottle, dumping the entire contents of the bottle onto Rab.  
Barely flinching, as otters like water, Rab got up in the boat, steadying it as he stood, and swung his paddle back. It caught Tom, knocking him clean into the river.  
"Yaaaaaaahhhhhhh! Watch were you swing that thing, you old waterdog!"  
"Oak Tom. I should have guessed it was you after that type of stunt. I take it you got the message I sent to Redwall?"  
"Sure. I'm supposed to guide you the rest of the way in. It's only an hour or two up from here. I figured that a northland rogue like you would still appreciate another rogue's company, even if you have settled down to start a family." Said Tom, climbing onto the boat.  
"Say I settled down once more and I wouldn't count on you staying around to guide us in, mate!"  
The small craft sailed up the River Moss with the former northlanders chatting away like the old friends they were. Night closed in as the small group approached Redwall.  
  
As he stepped through the thin fog that had come with an early fall night in Mossflower, listening to frost covered leaves crunch under his feet, Garsider couldn't help but think of why he was outside on a night like this.  
He still couldn't believe that after fourteen seasons he was once again on the run. Something told him that this time he would not find escape such an easy task.  
True, getting dragged down the Scimitar river when it was in the middle of a spring run off had not been fun, but at least it had gotten him past Nagru's forces unnoticed.  
After, that, Nagru had sent bounty hunters after him, but they had not had an easy time tracking him down in the vastness of the Northlands. That wasn't to say that they never did find him. Garsider did remember setting ambushes for some of his hunters. In fact, that was how he had supported himself for so long - bounty hunters usually carried a fair load of loot.  
Garsider was careful not to create more enemies for himself. Since many of his comrades had died in the battle of the Scimitar River, not many creatures recognized him. To keep it that way, he had stayed out of the matters of any of the Northland powers - until recently.  
Although the bounty hunters had left him a rich fox, the stream of bounty hunters died off after Nagru left the Northlands. Garsider had eventually run low on money, prompting him to take up a new career - espionage.  
One Northern warlord had hired him to analyze the plans of a fox called Kellgan. Kellgan had been a renowned weapons engineer before creating his own miniature empire in the chaos that followed Nagru leaving the Northlands to some of his followers. It was the part about Kellgan being a weapons engineer that worried Garsider's employer - he suspected Kellgan had some suprises under development. Garsider's employer had been right.  
At first, the mission had gone well for Garsider. Kellgan had recently set sail south for some odd reason, and after he had located Kellgan's ship, he set about attempting to get information off of the vessel. Several of Kellgan's officers were all too willing to help him acquire information. Unfortunately, of the three officers Garsider had hired, only one made it back to Garsider. The survivor had simply given him the information, told him to watch out for "the cloaked yellow eyes", taken his payment, and left, booking passage on a nearby vessel as if he had demons after him.  
The information Garsider received was Kellgan's journal. The journal outlined in detail Kellgan's plans for growing his empire into a superpower - one greater than even Nagru could have dreamed of. The weapons he planned to use to do so were absolutely terrifying and seemingly unstoppable.  
However, Garsider still had hope. The journal also contained Kellgan's plans for building his rather unconventional weapons. Garsider knew that if the plans fell into the hands of anyone who could build the weapons it would likely turn the recipient into a conqueror, so he could not give the plans to his employer. However, Garsider also knew Kellgan would do anything to get the plans back for this very reason. He needed protection while he considered his next move. Was it better to use the weapons against Kellgan and let another warlord gain the weapons, or was it better to destroy the plans and battle Kellgan in a seemingly helpless conventional war in an attempt to prevent him from having time to redesign the weapons?  
His only hope was to get to Redwall. According to the journal, Kellgan would use Redwall as a test of the effectiveness of the new weapons. Garsider seriously doubted all the tales of the abbey being impenetrable to attack, but if he could warn the abbey's inhabitants, they might have a chance to weather the coming storm and rally an army against Kellgan.  
Since Redwall was the only place he could think of to hide the plans, it would have to weather the storm... or nothing else would. 


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
"That's a good bag of candied chestnuts you owe me, Treerose."  
Treerose saw Saxtus out of the corner of her eye. The somewhat fat abbot was trying to cover up a smirk. Lately, Saxtus had started taking pride in being able to correct other beasts about anything. Treerose thought it might have something to do with being called great father abbot all the time. However, in this case, logic could still deflate his ego.  
"It's still not that late. They could still be here before dawn. Then you'll learn what northland males do in their spare time. Most likely tomorrow morning they'll be laid out on the floor in Cavern Hole, with mugs of October Ale close to paw. Luckily for you, this abbey is quite sound proof. Hopeful that will keep the dibbuns from learning the words to some of the dirty songs they sing."  
"Sounds like Tarquin at a nameday feast."  
"Only worse."  
"I'll hold you to that."  
"Come on Saxtus, I'm just shaking your branch a little."  
"What?"  
"Never mind, Saxtus."  
"Squirrel slang always messes with my brain. I still think I'm going to be right though. I'd say we find them laid out by some campfire with mugs of October Ale close to paw."  
"I doubt it. Rab isn't too bad, at least for an otter. Oh, and it's terminology, not slang" Rufe said, having just come up onto the wall.  
"I'll hold you to you're acorns there, Rufe. The male otters I saw in the northlands didn't have a bit of sense between them. This Rab character is probably not quite so controlled when he isn't boosting his ego with formality by playing Captain of the Guard."  
"Can we stop with the squirrel slang - er, terminology please?"  
Treerose immediately launched into a near perfect impersonation of otter speech. "Aye, matey, we can stop the slang."  
Saxtus sighed.  
"Why must everybeast pick on the poor old father abbot?"  
"Because you ain't lookin' like much of an old father abbot yet, old mate!"  
Saxtus quickened his march, muttering just loud enough for Treerose and Rufe to hear; "Did I predict they'd be back tomorrow morning? Ha! If they're anything like the northlanders you described, they won't be here until tomorrow afternoon!"  
"I hope you haven't bet anything on that prediction, great father abbot."  
Rufe nearly jumped out of his skin as Oak Tom poked him in the back with his lance. Giving the lance a slight twirl, Tom slipped it into a carrying pouch on his back before Rufe saw what he had actually been poked with. His dramatic entrance complete, the big squirrel spoke to Saxtus again.  
"Any food left for some passing rogues, old mouse?"  
Saxtus snorted "You can stop calling me an old mouse, flufftail. In response to your question, there are some leftovers from dinner in Great Hall, assuming Flagg hasn't decide to look for a snack. As you can probably guess, everybeast is down in Cavern Hole for a good evening's entertainment now. I suspect your friend's stories are going to be the highlight of tonight's show. Where is Rab now?"  
Tom jumped lightly from the battlements to the ground. Saxtus looked over the edge and shuddered before starting down the steps. Treerose didn't help him any by doing a perfect copy of Tom's maneuver. Continuing his slow walk down the steps, Saxtus strained to here Oak Tom talking. Even with his loud voice, the squirrel was hard to hear from so far down.  
"East wallgate. I'll get it for you, you old fatty!"  
"Less of the old fatty, flufftail!"  
  
Rab walked in slowly, absorbing the breathtaking sight that was Redwall Abbey. Then he turned to Treerose and smiled gallantly.  
"You must be Treerose. To tell the truth, you're more beautiful than I had imagined from Tom's descriptions of you." The comment managed to get Rab a smile from Treerose and a slap from Iris' tail.  
As they walked towards the abbey, Tom slid up beside Rab.  
"Is Iris always that grouchy? OW!" Tom quickly dodged off to the side to avoid another of Iris' tail swings.  
"I heard that."  
  
  
Garsider crouched in the bushes off to the side of the path, waiting for the group of hares to pass. All his years of training were all that kept him from running away. He was smart enough to know that that would be the end of him. The hares would hear him if he ran, and in a full out sprinting contest, no fox could defeat a hare.  
For a second, he regretted having lost the compact crossbow he always used to carry with him. But then he realized that even with a good ranged weapon he wouldn't have stood a chance against that many hares. No weapon he knew of was fast enough to take down fourteen hares before one of them lanced him. Considering the fact he was the son of two arms dealers, that was saying a lot.  
He counted them again as they passed; just to be sure his eyes hadn't been playing tricks on him in the fog. Fourteen hares. That wasn't exactly something he saw every day.  
Quickly calculating how much noise he could afford to make, Garsider started trailing them, with his paw on his sword hilt. Luckily, with how loud the hares were being, he was able to clearly make out what was being said without being detected by the hares even at a good run.  
"I say, Pa, when are we going to set up camp? It's dark out and it's getting pretty cold with all this fog, wot wot?"  
"We're only a little ways from Redwall. We'll stop there for the night. Need to jolly well deliver Rawnblade's message on time, wot!"  
"Any idea why Rawnblade wants us to get the message to Redwall so bally fast, Tarquin?"  
A noise from a fair distance behind him cause Garsider to stop in his tracks. He noted the path the hares had taken, as well as the fact that even in the dark, he could see something that looked like a building in the distance. Perhaps he was closer to his objective than he thought...  
He turned back and darted into the trees. He crouched and started moving back in the direction from which he had came, searching for the source of the noise. Slowly as to avoid making too much noise, he drew his sword, and once again he wished he still had his old crossbow. He had the feeling he could use it.  
  
After being given a short tour of Redwall by Tom, Rab sat down in a chair by a fire in Cavern Hall. Slowly sipping from a warm mug of cider - the kind with alcohol - he looked towards his audience. After taking a good drink, he put the mug down and spoke.  
"I'm guessing you want to hear all about my adventures in the Northlands and Southsward."  
"Of course they do! Just get started with it, you old riverdog!"  
Rab shot a glance at Tom that would have made most vermin cower in fear, but which had no effect on Rab's old friend. A laugh from the audience brought Rab's attention back to what he was doing.  
"Well, where should I start..."  
  
The sound of a twig snapping nearby caused Garsider to jump up and step backwards, just before an arrow hit the tree he had been crouching in front of.  
He leaped towards his opponent with amazing agility, slicing his opponent's bowstring as his adversary was preparing to fire his second arrow. Quickly realizing his peril, the cloaked ferret attempted to distract Garsider by throwing the now useless arrow like a dart. He drew steel as Garsider spun sideways to avoid being hit.  
Cold steel rang out against cold steel on a cold, foggy Mossflower night.  
  
Meanwhile, a good sprint brought Tarquin and his family to the abbey. As the hares came into Cavern Hole after a good meal, Rab gave Rosie a small wave of recognition while continuing with his story.  
Tarquin quickly sought out Oak Tom in the crowded room.  
"Tom?"  
Tom turned towards Tarquin. "Can it wait? I want to know what Rab has been up to."  
Tarquin handed Tom an envelope.  
"Rawnblade said this message was of utmost importance. Though in that case, I don't know why he gave it to a rogue like you."  
Tom smiled. "Must be my personality. Or my looks."  
Tarquin sighed slightly.  
"I'm kidding, Tarquin. Its probably someone he wants me to look for next time I go out into Mossflower. That also means it can wait until tomorrow, since I'm not going to go out there tonight."  
Tom put the letter from Rawnblade in his pocket. It would be some time until he remembered about it, because the next day would bring with it the first of many major events.  
  
When there was a blade involved, Garsider was well in control of the situation. However, the ferret that had been hunting him was not stupid either. Calling on a reserve of strength, the ferret battered Garsider backwards towards a thorn bush, then made a run for it as Garsider cried out in pain.  
"Don't rest while I'm around, you scum! We outnumber you a score to one!" The ferret yelled at Garsider as he ran.  
"Those numbers are about to even out a little!"  
Barely audible in the night, one of the poison tipped darts Garsider always carried hidden in his cloak pocket caught the ferret in the back. The ferret dropped with a quiet retching sound.  
Garsider quickly ran over to the corpse. He wiped the dart on his opponent's cloak, than slipped it back into a protective casing, which he used to prevent the darts from stabbing him through his own cloak. He inspected the bounty hunter's bow and sword, but the bow was useless without a string and the sword wasn't as good as his own. He did, however, acquire a small dagger from his opponent. After that quick search he started moving again. The hunters usually operated in packs, and the others would be out for his blood soon. Uncorking a small bottle of water for a drink, Garsider quickened his pace. It was not hard for him to tell who had sent the bounty hunter, or how desperate Kellgan was getting.  
  
Rab's son John quickly fit in with Redwall's dibbuns, some of who had never met someone their own age from outside the abbey before - let alone outside Mossflower.  
"You're really from Southsward? We've only heard about it from what Rufe told us. Was there really a big battle there?"  
"Aye. That was the summer before I was born."  
John told them a lot about himself and his homeland, and he made a pact with some of the dibbuns. The next morning he would show them what the world outside the abbey was like - if they could show him how to get out one of the wallgates, of course.  
The pact was sealed over a snack of candied chestnuts that some of the dibbuns had swiped from the kitchens, than John went to get some sleep.  
Tomorrow was going to be a big day.  
  
Garsider saw the abbey approaching as he came crashing through the woodlands. He had made it.  
This far, at least. He still needed a way in. It was time to think. He didn't have long to think either. Dawn was almost upon Mossflower, and he would soon be visible from the walls.  
  
  
  
"Something bothering you, Tom?"  
Even after Rab had finished telling his stories and most of the abbey had gone to bed, Tom and Treerose had stayed up talking to Rab and Iris. However, Tom found it difficult to sleep, despite the late hour.  
"Nothing. It's nothing, dear."  
But even after he did fall asleep, Tom couldn't help but feel like something was about to happen. The appearance of Martin the Warrior in his dreams didn't help.  
  
"Find the defector,  
Beware the fox,  
Guard the walls,  
  
Check the locks."  
  
Other than the poem, Martin gave Tom few words before disappearing.  
"Be aware that not everything is as it seems. Be vigilant, or your mistakes could be the downfall of many."  
  
Despite only having slept for a couple of hours, Tom woke up, fully alert, in a cold sweat. 


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
The ship was named Conqueror, more as a tribute to it's commander's ambitions than to the vessel's abilities. That wasn't to say it couldn't live up to it's name, however, as it was a massive vessel by warship standards.  
Of the five major ships in Kellgan's fleet, only Kellgan's own flagship could be considered anything more than an economical way of transport. The others were converted cargo vessels, difficult to destroy due to their large size, but nonetheless mainly used as a way to easily and quickly transport a large assault force. Their large size prevented them from having the handling characteristics required by a purebred warship.  
The Conqueror was different. It was a vessel designed to destroy one or even two enemy ships in a running fight and come out with only minor damage. It was designed to land more than one hundred troops on an enemy's doorstep. On top of that, the vessel contained everything Kellgan could foresee needing for a prolonged campaign of domination. On the Conqueror, the engineer fox's lab facilities and tactics library were just a short walk from his quarters.  
Because of the danger of being spotted from Salamandastron, Kellgan had decided to wait until night to take the Conqueror into the River Moss. Luckily, the wind was blowing in the correct direction for the ship to move upriver with surprising speed. Despite operating without lights on in order to avoid detection, the vessel managed to make it through it's ordeal with only a couple scrapes on rocks. The fact Kellgan had spotters watching the river from the lower decks had helped immensely in this regard. Inspections later revealed that none of the scrapes had punched through the ship's hall. Although this was good news, it hardly meant much to Kellgan - as long as the water didn't get into the supplies, they were fine. The ship had reached it's destination.  
Rackson, Kellgan's chief tracker rat, approached the Conqueror with uncertainty. Kellgan had paid a fortune to get a bird to airlift Rackson to Mossflower, just so the tracker could jump Garsider before the fox made it to a safe location. To this end, Rackson had also hired almost a score of woodsbeasts. None of this had made a difference, and Kellgan was going to be annoyed about it.  
After a quick check in with the guards on board the Conqueror, Rackson found himself approaching the end of a hallway on board the vessel. He had been in Kellgan's office before, but that didn't reduce the size of the lump in his throat. He knocked on Kellgan's door.  
"Come in."  
Drat, thought Rackson as he opened the door and stepped in.  
It took Rackson only a split second to realize that everything in the room looked strange. He yelled out and turned to run.  
"At ease, Lieutenant."  
Rackson turned around, still shaken by what he had seen, and still saw.  
Kellgan gestured towards the cylinder that seemed to be producing the eerie blue light that filled the room.  
"Just a little project I've been working on in my spare time. It's designed to frighten my enemies into surrendering. It's pretty effective, don't you think?"  
Rackson swallowed.  
"I agree, sir."  
Kellgan smiled.  
"If you think you freaked out, you should have seen Commander Bosch. I designed these lights so that in addition to demoralizing the enemy by making the bearer appear to be some sort of supernatural being, they are also much more practical than torches. They last longer and you don't run the risk of burning down a forest like you do with a torch. Too bad they're difficult to make."  
Kellgan sighed and looked directly at Rackson.  
"Of course, these alone aren't going to set the world on fire. I need other things for that. Speaking of which, did you get my plans back?"  
Rackson swallowed again. This was the part he dreaded saying.  
"Sir, I tracked the fox to within a hour's travel of Redwall. I'm a tracker, not an infiltrator, and I thought it would be a good idea to inform you of the situation rather than attempt to retrieve the plans from within Redwall myself."  
Kellgan appeared to be deep in thought.  
"This calls for some more specialized work - work that you aren't haven't been trained for. Dismissed, Lieutenant."  
It took Rackson several seconds to fully comprehend what Kellgan had said. Even after that amount of time he still had trouble believing what he had heard.  
"You aren't annoyed about my failure, sir?"  
Kellgan's voice turned dangerous.  
"Actually, I'm very annoyed about your failure, Lieutenant. However, I have found it is not in my best interests to punish officers who fail missions that are extremely difficult. I can't afford to lose good trackers. Bad trackers, however, are another matter entirely. Those who continually fail me are volunteering to be the subjects of my future experiments."  
While he had been talking, Kellgan had slowly been reaching into a draw under his desk. As he finished speaking he drew a vial of liquid and a dart out of his desk.  
"See what I mean, Lieutenant? Now GO!" Kellgan's voice suddenly got much louder as he said go. It had the desired effect. Rackson bolted from the room as if he had demons after him. The rat lieutenant reached the deck, then went to look for a private place in the forest. After that conversation, he felt a need to relieve his seriously loosened bladder.  
  
Kellgan put away the vial and the dart. He would deal with that experiment later. He walked to the door of his office while thinking about whether or not there was any other way to accomplish his goals, since a good commander always considers his alternatives. Finding none, he decided to go find a creature who could do the necessary job. As he had said earlier, this was not a job for a dimwitted rat, no matter how good that rat might be at tracking.  
Partway down the hall, Kellgan stopped and knocked on a door. Within a few seconds the creature who dwelled inside opened it. That didn't surprise Kellgan, since this creature was a very light sleeper. Yellow eyes hidden in a black cloak appeared to materialize out of nowhere behind the door. Kellgan gestured for the creature to follow him.  
Once they were back in Kellgan's lab, Kellgan gestured for the creature to sit down. As the creature did so, she also swept back her hood, revealing a yellow eyed vixen with fur of what was best described as a smoke colour. She was beautiful, with a sinuous body and rather attractive features, but she wasn't really much of a sociable creature. Kellgan had made it a rule to keep his relationship with her strictly professional.  
He still remember finding her, fifteen seasons before, when she was only a child, but with a burning desire to avenge her parents. Since she was a skilled woodsbeast with a lot of experience in camouflage, Kellgan had quickly realized her potential for infiltration, and had helped her with her little quest. Over the years he had trained her to be his strong right hand, reaching in to kill, steal from, and manipulate his enemies without emotion, while he remained at a safe distance. He had crafted a killer, a thief, and a spy.  
She wasn't just an expert at not being seen, however. She also specialized in the opposite. In fact, her abilities to disguise herself in a way that made her appear to belong somewhere had been invaluable, allowing her to get past security Kellgan's enemies considered perfect. She had also proven to have an adept mind for physics. Specifically, the physics of slinging a blade.  
Kellgan couldn't even remember what she had said her name was, it had been so long since she had used it. Instead, he used her code name.  
"I have a mission for you, Silencer."  
Silencer kept eye contact with him as they spoke. Unlike most of his officers, she considered herself his ally, but she did not consider herself to be someone who he could just order around at will. If Silencer was involved with something, it was usually something Kellgan needed her for more than she needed him. She wanted to be damn sure he realized that fact.  
"And what would that mission be, friend?"  
"Are you familiar with a fox called Garsider?"  
"I believe one of the spies I caught used that name in reference to his employer. Before you subjected him to one of your experiments, of course."  
"In that case, you already know that he stole some of my most important documentation on some of my weapons designs. I need it back."  
"Sounds like you do."  
"Rackson's most recent report suggests the fox has hidden himself within Redwall Abbey. I want you to retrieve the documents from him at any cost. You are looking for a small book with a waterproofed cover, and since I am sure he knows it's value, doubtless he will keep it near him at all times. Most likely it will be on his person."  
"I'll set out first thing tomorrow. I've seen your maps of Redwall, so I know what the layout of the building is like. He shouldn't be hard to find, Redwall rarely allows foxes through it's gates. With any luck, I'll be back here by early on the day after tomorrow, with your documents."  
"Good. See to it that it is done."  
Silencer got up and walked towards the door.  
"Oh, and Silencer-"  
She turned her head and looked back at him.  
"Although I would prefer the Redwallers alive, don't hesitate to use lethal force on anyone who gets in your way. They may be worth more to me alive to serve me than dead, but the difference is not large enough for you to risk this mission for. Most importantly, make sure the fox does not live. He has seen things that none except me and a select few should see, and that makes him dangerous."  
Silencer smiled. In her books, those who opposed Kellgan were evildoers, and there was nothing Silencer loved more than killing those she considered evil.  
"I will see to it personally."  
With that, she left.  
Kellgan remained behind, studying what he would do after conquering Redwall until late into the night. Kellgan did have one major flaw: his experiments had been too successful for his own good. They had made him arrogant. They had made him think that he could control anything and everything. Over the years, he had convinced himself that one as powerful as himself should rule the fate of all, and he did not shy away from submitting others to his will, through his experiments or by other means. He even believed that some day he could conquer nature, becoming the ultimate force in the world. All this made him overconfident.  
However, the same things that made him overconfident also made him dangerous.  
  
Author's note: I just love writing about Kellgan. He's so evil, in his own way. 


	5. Chapter 4

Author's note: Admiral Gainward's death isn't part of the plot of this fanfic, but it is part of a fanfic that I was planning to do at one point. It just kind of stuck, since I wanted to use these characters anyway. I'm also hoping the big gap between chapters doesn't affect the writing style too badly.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Port Vanguard, Northlands, night:  
The waves outside the small bay that Vanguard was situated in were enough to knock even very large ships around a bit. Inside the bay, on the other hand, the water was fairly calm, with less wind. It was perfect conditions for a skilled helmsbeast to show off.  
Utilizing the speed it had built up from the heavy winds outside, The NDL Glory came cruising in with it's bow tilted upwards slightly. The wake the big ship created cutting through the water caused the smaller vessels docked at the port to sway slightly. However, John Elmsworth was never one for subtle entrances, unless he was on a covert assignment. Needless to say, as Commanding Officer of Port Vanguard, he didn't get many of those.  
Elmsworths specialty was really commanding a vessel, but like so many commanders before him, he had been forced to take on the role of General because no one else was qualified to do so. In addition to being General of Vanguard, he was often elected as a temporary commander of the NDL fleet. The NDL hadn't really had an Admiral since Gainward's fall in battle ten seasons earlier, which had shattered the myth of the NDL's invulnerability on water. However, at times of crisis when the ships of the various NDL ports came together, they needed someone to command the fleet. Usually, they picked Elmsworth, because although he hated his duties, he was actually rather good at them. However, despite all his high level responsibilities, he still found time to play Captain of the Glory, something that annoyed the Glory's real Captain, a otter named Bruno, to no end.  
Of course, since he wasn't the full time Captain, he didn't have to stick around to clean up the vessel for it's next mission. He relinquishing command to Bruno, much to the other otter's annoyance, than walked off the ship almost as soon as it had docked. He stopped in front of a female squirrel who had been watching the Glory's enterance for some time.  
"Hello, Commander Rosewood. Did anything out of the ordinary happen while I was gone?"  
Commander Amy Rosewood had been one of John's childhood friends, and the two of them coordinated Vanguard's land and sea forces so well they almost liked one commander in battle. Even when the lines of communications were cut off, the two could usually predict what the other was doing and take the correct action. It was something that annoyed enemy commanders to no end.  
A female squirrel stood on the dock. She was older than her appearance would have suggest, however, like many NDL officers, she was still physically fit, making her perfect for the hands on operations that most NDL commanders preferred. She wore her best dress uniform - something she never wore in battle, since it was poor camouflage and made tree climbing difficult. She did, however, carry her bow and full quiver. She snapped to attention as her superior officer disembarked.  
"General!"  
"I've told you before, just call me John. I don't think I need any special title."  
Commander Amy Rosewood shook her head at John, trying to stop herself from groaning after hearing that argument for the umpteenth time. Even after having been friends since a very young age, the two officers still had a tendency to get on each other's nerves.  
"When will you ever learn, General - I mean John?"  
"I don't know what you mean. Anyway, anything happen back here I should know about, mate?"  
"Nothing around here. Not even any of those small roving bands of vermin have shown their heads around here lately. How about you? Did you see anything?"  
"We didn't see a thing on our patrol. That bird seemed sure that Kellgan was moving his troops, and Kellgan would have to be stupid to try to bring them over land - it's hard to get over mountains, and most of the routes can be blackaded and held quite easily. So it would have to be by water - although his ships would be cramped."  
Commander Rosewood snorted quietly. "If he thinks those modified freighters would ever be able to get here, he's wrong - your longbow otters could destroy them with fire arrows from well out of range."  
Elmsworth sighed. "I wish that was that easy, mate. However, Kellgan would need to do to get in here would be go around the mountains. I estimate that he could fit several hundred troops on each of those ships for a short trip. We need to be careful."  
"Yes, general - I mean John."  
"What about Captain Densir? Has he gotten back yet?"  
Commander Rosewood snorted quietly again. "He got back yesterday from Harcen yesterday, then I immediately sent him out on that route you wanted him to scout out. Even factoring in the fact the Barchetta is a very fast ship, I would say he won't be back again until sometime tommorrow."  
"Well, I guess that means I'm off for the night."  
"What are you planning to do?"  
The otter general started off at a brisk pace.  
"All the stuff Hallina wouldn't let me do if she was around."  
"Okay, where are you planning to go?"  
"For a drink."  
  
Captain Densir had though about striking up some playful conversation about the insanity of running without lights in bad weather, but decided not to break the silence in left between wind and sea. The shrew knew he was taking a risk with his ship, but he had been in far worse, and backing down wasn't in the shrew's vocabulary. Once part of one of the Northland's many shrew tribes, he had run off seeking challenges, and he never backed down from them. Too smart for his own good, he complemented his skills as a captain with a mastery of swordplay. He dressed like a corsair, with guady clothes and a badger made rapier he had managed to acquire on the black market. He was one who would take his ship into enemy territory without a second thought, and bring it back home again. Indeed, General Elmsworth had once described the shrew as having "the most adrenaline running through his veins of any creature alive.  
Of course, such an accomplished, if not respected officer wasn't out here for no reason. Commander Rosewood had given him all the reports from the Northern Defense League's aerial spies, and he knew what he was looking for. He was to find Kellgan's ships, and provide close range reconnaissance of it, and, if possible, mount a covert strike on the vessels.  
Hallinna Elmsworth, John's wife and one of the crew members of the Barchetta, called out to Densir.  
"Lights ahead!"  
Densir night vision was good, but it couldn't hold a candle to Hallinna's sharp eyes.  
"Hallinna, can you identify those ships?"  
"The light pattern would suggest a large vessel."  
"Then we may have our prey. Ready to do your bit?"  
"Ready as always."  
"All right. Agradson, slack up the sails. I'm going to try to hold our position. It will be hard in these conditions, but if we go off course I'm sure little Mrs. Sharpeyes can find us again."  
"You can bet your life on it, Captain."  
"I'd rather not have to, thanks, it was bad enough to have to do that once in a lifetime. Now get a move on, Lieutenant."  
Hallinna checked here equipment: axe, chisel, fire starters, and her trusty javelin, in some cases covered to protect them from the water. Then, taking a short run, she enthusiastically dived into the freezing water characteristic of fall in the Northlands, head first.  
Densir shivered. "How can she do that?"  
Agradson answered. "I'll figure that out when I figure out why otters like hotroot soup."  
"Good point. I'd say that like most otters she is beyond our help. Strange creatures. Although I think they like the hotroot soup because it helps get rid of the chill they must get from swimming in these conditions."  
"That and it probably clears their heads after a night of drinking."  
"You referring to Elmsworth and his Whiskey?"  
"Yeah, although I wouldn't tell Hallinna that."  
"Agreed. We're better off with him drunk. No practical jokes during training exercises when the bastard is hung over."  
"Elmsworth isn't a bastard, Captain."  
"It's an expression, Agradson."  
"It is?"  
Densir drew his rapier.  
"Take this, you bastard."  
"I'm not a bastard either- ahahahahahahahaha!!! Stop the tickling, please!"  
Densir suddenly felt Hallina grab his wrist and pull the rapier away from Agradson's ribs. The small otter's incredible strength never failed to amaze him.  
"You idiots! There's two overloaded vermin freighters around here and you two are making enough of a racket to mark you out to a seagull looking to loose a bit of weight."  
Densir matched Hallina's dead serious expression and looked her directly in the eye.  
"You didn't manage to take them out?"  
"It would have taken me all night to sabotage a ship that big with the gear I have. Sorry Captain, but I really didn't have a choice."  
Densir sighed. "All right, do you think they were going for Vanguard?"  
Hallinna shrugged.  
"I doubt they'd try a direct naval attack, and they're a bit far south for a northern landing. I'm guessing they'll try and sneak around to the area south of Vanguard, if attacking us is their intent."  
Densir took his position behind the helm.  
"All right, I guess we'd better get a move on and report to the General. Agradson - full sail. We're heading home as fast as we can. Maybe we'll even get home in time for a good sleep, too!"  
Hallinna pulled a weary face.  
"Hey, you're not married with "General" John Elmsworth."  
Densir grinned and prodded some more.  
"Come on now, we know you're looking forward to it. You used to always talk about how great a lover he was..."  
Hallina's tail hit Densir hard in the side of the face. Densir rubbed the bruise.  
"Hmmm. No sense of humour in that one." 


End file.
